The Importance of Doubting the Doubtful Mind: Lessons from a Buddhist Retreat

The Importance of Doubting the Doubtful Mind: Lessons from a Buddhist Retreat

TLDR: The mind can feel chaotic with the presence of defilements. When doubt arises, try doubting the doubt to set the ground for clarity to arise. The teachers’ guidance can also help in the situation and as an object of recollection after returning to daily life.

I shared the first part of my experience of an 8-day retreat in Wat Marp Jan here, summarising my experiences in the environment. This part will summarise observations of my internal world, which may or may not be caused by external situations.

Doubtful mind

Doubt arose in the restless mind on the first few days. I found myself disliking the unfamiliar way the Dhamma talk was conducted: the Thai part by Ajahn Anan that I didn’t understand which meant I had to wait for the translated part, the seemingly unstructured topics chosen for the session, the distractions of seeing the other monks having their meals during morning Dhamma talks.

There was so much resistance in my mind that I wondered if it was the right decision to join the retreat. I decided to take Ajahn Achalo’s suggestion to doubt the doubtful thought: “Who is doubting?”.

I asked myself if the doubt was reasonable, as there must be some validity to the method if these many retreatants decided that it was worthwhile to spend 9 days away from their daily lives to be here.

Keeping this in mind, I continued with the daily schedules and, fortunately, supportive experiences started to materialise. I watched how the resident monks acted with grace and intention, listened to how the visiting Ajahns expressed their respect for Ajahn Anan, and felt how Ajahn Anan slowly drew my mind in.

My mind shifted into a lighter mode in the middle of the retreat period, and I was more receptive to the way things were conducted.

The teachers show up

We were also privileged to listen to Dhamma talks from other visiting Ajahns during the week. Ajahn Achalo dialled in via Zoom to caution us that hindrances may be amplified during the retreat period (it’s totally accurate for me!); Ajahn Ñāṇiko from Abhayagiri Monastery shared about patience-endurance (Khanti) and faith (Saddha) in our practice; Ajahn Pavaro from Tisarana Buddhist Monastery gave advice on getting ‘back’ into daily life.

For me, the peak experience was when Luang Por Boonchu graced us with his presence. Ajahn Anan treated him with such high esteem, sharing that Luang Por Boonchu was the left-hand man of Luang Por Chah (while Luang Por Liem was his right-hand man). 

Visually he may look like an unassuming older monk, but he emanated such a ray of joy (or perhaps equanimity) with his light-hearted mood. He encouraged us to remain mindful and see conditions as ‘just like that’, to continue with our practice, and try something we have not done before – if we’ve never meditated overnight, we should try it out (some retreatants did that with a joyful attitude). 

I experienced this ‘old monk’ as the epitome of joy and love. I was in tears by the end of the session, overcome by the overflowing joy and bliss in my heart. Feeling embarrassed, I apologised to my chore-mate for having to compose myself before our cleaning duty. She just smiled and said, “That’s okay. I cried yesterday too.”

Last but not least, Ajahn Anan stood at the centre of my overall experience. Ajahn showed up as someone a little stern in the beginning, adding to the dislike in my mind. When I finally saw Ajahn Anan’s warmth and generosity over the next few days, my mind also slowly opened up to his teachings.

I noticed Ajahn’s emphasis on continuous practice and mind cultivation (he often closed his Dhamma talk by telling us to ‘Samadhi’ – just one word and everyone gladly followed).

When daily life ‘returns’ to us

Having been to two retreats, I now understand why retreats could progress one’s practice and deepen one’s faith in their practice. The secluded environment helps to highlight areas that are ready for exploration and progress. However, the practice does not (and should not) end when we leave the monastery compound, so the effort does not go to waste.

We can find appropriate ways to continue with the habit/practice cultivated during the retreat.

Ajahn Pavaro suggested that we bring our minds to meaningful moments during the retreat so that we can recollect and lighten our minds when daily/mundane life clogs our minds.

Incorporate mindfulness in daily small actions, e.g. be aware of the body when sitting in a traffic jam. With this, we can continue using the spirit already developed during the retreat into a more mindful life.

Buddha’s smile

I’d like to close off this sharing with a small realisation. When I first saw the Buddha statue in the Eating Hall, I recall thinking, “This Buddha’s face feels awkward”.

Towards the end of the retreat, I finally saw the compassionate gaze and smile. Of course, there was no change to the statue, only a change in my perspective and understanding. It’s human nature to form opinions based on our past habits, but there can be learning as long as we keep our minds and hearts open. 

The smiling Buddha
Cr: Author

Wise steps:

  • The mind can play tricks, raising doubtful thoughts to discourage the practice. Try doubting the doubt to see the situation beyond our own liking/disliking.
  • Remain patient when disliking arises. Once the ‘dust’ settles down, only can the mind see clearly.
  • Retreat and daily life can feel like two opposite ways of life. We can apply small mindful actions to bridge the gap.
The Unspoken Conversation: The Mental Health of Teachers

The Unspoken Conversation: The Mental Health of Teachers

TLDR: Teacher burnout is a real risk. The mental health of teachers also has a significant impact on students. Besides relying on their peers and official support channels, teachers can practise meditation to promote greater mental wellness for themselves and their students.

The Missing Conversation

“What’s missing from the conversation in schools is the mental well-being of teachers.”

So goes a comment from a former secondary school teacher, as quoted in a CNA Insider post, which highlighted the challenges that teachers have faced. As netizens generally agreed, teachers have it tough. 

Struggling to cover content while keeping up with new policies and coping with safe management measures, answering multiple stakeholders like parents, colleagues, and supervisors. Teachers may find it all rather overwhelming. 

If a common refrain of critics is to ask who guards the guards, can we ask in turn how we can care more for the caregivers? 

How should we take better care of teachers’ mental health, especially from a Dhamma-based perspective?

Burnout and Brownout

The issue of mental wellness has preoccupied the nation’s collective imagination in recent months. Reports have noted that, in comparison to their peers globally, Singaporean workers experienced higher than average levels of burnout: around half felt exhausted, while almost 60% felt overworked. For professions as demanding as teaching, the risk of burnout seems particularly acute. 

Aside from ‘burnout’, more workplaces have observed increased incidence of ‘brownout’ — akin to the reduction in voltage which results in the dimming and flickering of lights — in the workplace environment. This would refer to the stage before the point of burnout, as a loss of interest in work and life, in general, threatens to slip into depression. 

I’m reminded of the five hindrances in Buddhism: perhaps experiences of burnout and brownout constitute a toxic mixture of states of torpor, intensified by restlessness, worry, and doubt.

Some have raised the deeper question about the role of teachers and the scope of their responsibilities. In a widely-shared video by RiceMedia, artist-musician and former teacher Chew Wei Shan recounts what it was like to be marking on weekends and juggling multiple obligations like managing a CCA, managing parents’ expectations, and so on. 

She movingly describes her experiences at school, which included dissuading a teenager from jumping off a roof at 2 AM, having chairs and scissors thrown at her, and male students cornering her while “eating [her] worksheet in [her] face”. 

At the same time, she observes how emotionally invested teachers can be in the lives of the hundreds of students they meet every year. 

As she reflects, it’s hard for teachers to avoid bringing back home worries about the students, or to prevent themselves from evaluating the little choices they make daily.

More than to ‘Just Teach’

As an NIE lecturer of mine once quipped, “If you want to just teach and only teach, you should be a full-time tutor.” 

To be a teacher, however, is far more than just to teach. 

It also means being a confidant, ready to step in when the need to counsel students arises, in addition to being an event planner, community organiser, safety officer, and a myriad of other roles. 

I’m reminded of the figure of Kuan Yin, the thousand-armed bodhisattva in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, whose numerous arms deliver aid to all suffering sentient beings, and who tirelessly offers blessings in the spirit of boundless compassion and wisdom. 

Perhaps teachers, who have dutifully coached and comforted students despite the challenges posed by the Covid-19 pandemic, are akin to modern bodhisattvas, selflessly devoting their time and effort to the welfare of their young charges.

But unlike Kuan Yin, teachers generally don’t have infinite energy and knowledge. Many teachers have also gone out of their way to ensure that programmes and lessons can proceed uninterrupted. 

For instance, as described in a TODAY article, as mass assembly programmes had to be halted due to safe management measures, teachers had to equip themselves with new skills such as how to record or live-stream performances to be presented via video-conferencing tools for events like Racial Harmony Day. 

The work involved in preparing for such events, in addition to other preparatory work needed to create resources for home-based learning or other activities, may have taken a toll on teachers over the past two years.

No System is Perfect

In response to concerns about excessive workloads as a result of duties apart from teaching, the Ministry of Education has clarified that the appraisal of teachers is such that their contributions are given recognition in all aspects of work, taking into account their efforts in aiding students’ holistic growth. 

As for administrative duties, there has been significant progress made to minimise teachers’ workloads by incorporating technology like the Parents’ Gateway app, as well as the evaluation and furnishing of manpower support. Furthermore, the ministry has reminded schools to review their systems of management so that teachers’ responsibilities can be better managed. 

On the ground, much depends on individual schools, school leaders, and colleagues, but at least official clarifications signal purposeful angling of priorities and directions for future educational policies. 

In a world governed by Dukkha (dissatisfaction), no system is perfect, but teachers can still refine and shape their sphere of influence to promote greater awareness and understanding of the roles that they play, and the effects they have on others. 

Interdependence: Teachers & Students

As former nominated MP, Anthea Ong, was quoted to have observed, “A student who is not well affects the well-being of a teacher—and a teacher who is not well affects the students. These two things need to be looked at in totality.” 

This reminded me of the concept of interdependence, or interbeing, as Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh would put it. 

When we understand how all phenomena exist concerning one another, we develop an awareness of the welfare of one is contingent on the other. Teachers and students are inextricably interconnected.

Such interdependence also explains why teachers play such a critical role in modelling to students what mental health entails. Students mirror their teachers in many ways, and the effect of teacher modelling can hardly be underestimated.

If teachers are calm and steady, students naturally sense this and develop a similar composure. If teachers are anxious or worried, students also succumb more easily to such fearful states of mind. Students are extremely observant towards the emotional tenor of their teachers, and they can quickly spot any discrepancy between teachers’ words and feelings. 

Getting off my Treadmill of Suffering

All this is based on personal experience. I remember how, amid one particularly difficult period in school, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. All the work involved in teaching graduating classes, setting examination papers, managing a CCA, coordinating committee work, organising events, responding to parents, and so on—with the cycle repeating every semester—had left me feeling like I was on a samsaric treadmill that could not stop.

I hardly realised it at the time, but without adequate strategies to cope with stress through skilful means, the atmosphere of my classes had been compromised. Even though I thought I kept maintaining my encouraging and reassuring classroom persona in front of students, my students shared privately after school with me that they noticed how I was often worried and anxious in class. 

My micro-expressions and other body language cues must have revealed my sense of tension and unease, which had invariably filtered into my students’ consciousness as well.

Fortunately, after my students alerted me to this, I began a process of self-reflection and lifestyle adjustment. I went through all my duties to reschedule or de-prioritise whatever I could. I blocked off time for sleep (instead of marking into the wee hours) and time for regular meals (instead of skipping lunch). 

In the evenings and on weekends, I set aside time for spiritual reading, and often I would also be listening to Dhamma talks like those by Ajahn Brahm. I made a conscious effort to shift my default state of mind from restlessness and agitation to calmness and equanimity.

This shift paid off—my students noticed that I was more ‘alive’ and present during class.

It was a testament to the importance of self-care, which far from being selfish, is essential for long-term flourishing. It means setting boundaries and respecting one’s own physical and psychological limits. 

The Power of Mindfulness

As Venerable Thubten Chodron observes in her book Good Karma, “Giving up self-preoccupation does not entail making ourselves suffer. We must take care of ourselves… this human body is the basis of our precious human life that gives us the possibility to learn and practise the Dhamma.”

Meditation can also be a powerful means of promoting greater mental wellness. When my school counsellor conducted weekly secular guided mindfulness practice sessions for the whole school via the PA system, I noticed how helpful it was for my students to begin the day with such a dose of calm. 

This practice signalled how mindfulness could be beneficial for the mainstream. Through mindfulness practice, students could increase their attentiveness, reduce test anxiety, and develop greater impulse control. Teachers in turn could cultivate a greater sense of balance and become more responsive to students’ needs.

Naturally, this is not to suggest that mindfulness alone is a panacea for all teachers who experience burnout. For teachers experiencing mental health issues, support from colleagues and official channels (such as counselling services offered by the Academy of Singapore Teachers) would be crucial. 

Seeking such professional help should also never be a cause for stigmatisation. We can continue to develop a culture in which self-care is safeguarded, and access to affordable therapeutic care is normalised. 

Perhaps we could learn from therapeutic circles of care, such as those established in other countries that have leveraged community partners like trained grandmothers to provide affordable mental health support. At the same time, mindfulness can help to enhance teachers’ abilities, while ensuring that they can care for themselves in ways that allow them to care better for others. 

If “wisdom springs from meditation” (Dhammapada v. 282), teachers are in a unique position to cultivate life-changing qualities of wisdom and compassion through the practice of mindfulness for the benefit of their students.

By championing and foregrounding the importance of mental wellness, teachers can better empower their students to learn, grow, and pass on the light of mindful living to others.


Wise Steps:

  • Develop a sense of purpose and meaning in the work that you do. Minimise the risk of burnout by prioritising tasks, based on discussions with colleagues and superiors.

  • Never be too busy to take care of your physical and emotional well-being. Schedule time for regular meals and sleep. Reading or listening to Dhamma talks can also promote your mental wellness.

  • Engage in mindfulness practice as a daily habit to ground and centre yourself during difficult times. Remain motivated to practise by staying connected to like-minded spiritual friends.